


a letter from home in los angeles

by emberjaycos



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Fix-It, Fluff, Letters, M/M, but i think it's okay as a stand alone, it's a single letter from stanley to bill, mentions of audra, mentions of patty - Freeform, this fic is a direct response to faith's fic, though i would recommend reading hers first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22256083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emberjaycos/pseuds/emberjaycos
Summary: one letter stanley uris wrote in response to bill denbrough
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris
Comments: 7
Kudos: 40





	a letter from home in los angeles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FaithNoMoar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaithNoMoar/gifts).



Dove,

I found your letters today. 

I’m sure there was a reason you kept them tucked away all this time. Maybe you never wanted me to read them? Or maybe you had a plan for them. I’m assuming the latter, you’ve always been a grand gesture romantic. I apologize for thwarting your, surely brilliant, intention for these, but curiosity killed the cat and all. I hope you’ll forgive me.

Well, actually, I know you will. You can never stay mad at me for long. 

Writing has always been a therapeutic thing for you. It’s easy to see from what you wrote. You have a hard time forming the words aloud, sometimes, but they always seemed to come naturally on paper. It’s heartwarming knowing how hard you tried; to cope, to open up, to not bundle your feelings and the weight of the world the way you always did when we were kids. 

Even if a lot of it was in those letters; you weren’t letting the thoughts linger in your head. I am seeing it now, that’s all that really matters. 

For the record, you’re absolutely right that I rolled my eyes at the mention of soulmates. But, in truth, I love that you believe it so desperately.

Maybe you were right all along.

_Maybe_. Don’t let that get to your head, I’ll never admit it out loud. Only in writing. 

I was scared, too, at first. That we would forget again, that you would decide you didn’t actually want this; didn't want me. I’m not sure the fear will ever completely go away. 

Your presence through all this time has made those fears less intense. You’ve combated my darkest worries and doubts. You always have. It’s why I think I’ve always sort of needed you. Not even in a dependent way, but in a half to a whole sort of way. 

You complete me. That’s why I am not nearly as afraid anymore. (I _suppose_ that makes you right. You’re my soulmate. But, again, we aren’t going to mention it.)

The past all seems like a distant memory; a nightmare that will surely always plague the back of our minds. But it doesn’t grip me the way it had for the twenty seven years before we met again. 

I can’t imagine what my life may have been like if we hadn’t met again. 

I remember how much you worried, directly after the events from our return to Derry. How you thought the Losers may never collectively heal from the traumas we experienced in that town not once, but twice. 

Together, though, we have always been stronger. The power of seven. 

Those wounds were easier to heal. Your doubts surrounding the rest of your personal life were a bigger beast to tackle. Despite what went down following your divorce from Audra, it never changed anything for me. 

I’ve always loved you. I could wait a little longer. I’ve always been surprisingly patient. Patty and Julia helped with the process tremendously, though. You were right about that, too; that Julia and I would get along.

I’m just grateful you and Patty got along, as well. I never really had a doubt, but it’s nice to be right. She was all I had for twenty seven years. You know that, of course, it was one of the first things I told you when we were trying to fill the gaps from all our years apart.

Even when I couldn’t quite land on how I knew _famous author William Denbrough_ it was like she had always known; not even just that I was in love with you, but that I really was your long time friend. 

Someday, I think we should tell her the truth. About everything. About Derry. 

Julia, too. 

But, for now, I don’t want to linger on Derry and the past any longer. I want to think about our future.

I think I know why you saved these letters all this time. I’m pretty clever, you know, I can piece together the finer details.

I’m sure you’re the one who was supposed to prepare for this, to ask, but I want to beat you to it this time. You’ve always made all the first moves. It’s my turn. You need to know how serious I am. How serious I’ve always been. 

When you find this letter, I want you to check the bookshelf in our room. There’s a chest I have with a bird on it, it’s at the end of the alphabetized collection of your novels that I have. Inside that chest, is a ring. 

I actually bought it not long after returning home to Atlanta. The first time you had to leave, not for good, but to handle your personal affairs. Before I sold my house and surprised you by moving in with you. 

I’ve debated the timing for awhile, but it feels right now.

I’ll end this letter better than any of the books you published before we started officially dating: William Denbrough, will you marry me?

All my love,

Stanley

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a direct response to Faith's fic [letters from flights to and from Atlanta](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20564684). This content comes from one (of many) of our stenbrough au's. Maybe we will slowly begin to post more of that content here.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at either iswearbill (sideblog) or aaron-hotchner (main blog).


End file.
